


please believe in me like i believe in you

by dizzyondreams



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Introspection, M/M, Yoga, andrew is out for blood (and coffee), bickering disguised as flirting, second kisses (just as good as first ones)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-14
Updated: 2017-03-14
Packaged: 2018-10-04 18:44:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10286282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dizzyondreams/pseuds/dizzyondreams
Summary: “What d’you need that for?” He asked, and lingered by the sink for a second with his mug before realising he couldn’t justhidein here. He was Andrew Minyard, for fucks sake. Neil doing yoga wasn’t enough to keep him from going where he liked, no matter how his ass looked in those grey sweats.“Flexibility.” Neil called, and Andrew reasoned with himself that perhaps he could stay here just another a minute for safety.





	

Something light hit his nose, and then Andrew was lurching out of sleep, hands reaching out to connect with wood, his sheets, before he remembered where the fuck he was. Bedroom, top bunk, Palmetto State, South Carolina. He ran through his mental checklist in a split second, before he even opened his eyes to attempt what he _hoped_ was an awake enough glare to frighten whoever had woken him up. 

There was a balled up piece of paper in the dip of his thighs, having rolled there when he’d jolted up. Nicky, the paper throwing bastard, was standing in the doorway looking equal parts amused and wary. Andrew bared his teeth.

“There’s no coffee in the pot.” Nicky said, voice too bright for the time that was blinking up at Andrew from Kevin’s alarm clock. Then he screwed his face up, tipped his head to the side consideringly. Andrew imagined throttling him, which was good enough for him to relax the half-snarl on his face. “Or, okay, _don’t_ drink the coffee in the pot.”

He fired off a quick salute, and then he was gone from the doorway like he knew what was waiting for him if he gave Andrew enough time to get down from bed. Andrew muttered a few choice curses to himself, flung the ball of paper towards the doorway, and then set out to examine the coffee situation.

The kitchen and living room were empty; Kevin probably off coaching Neil through the goddamn, absolute basics he should know already, Aaron probably mooning over that cheerleader whose name Andrew refused to learn. Nicky, as he’d already worked out, had fled the scene. The coffeepot, the true offender, sat silently and innocently in its place. It was half empty, completely innocuous. 

“He’s fucking with me.” Andrew mumbled, and poured himself a cup. Ever since he’d gotten off his meds he’d needed that extra boost in the mornings, so God help Nicky if he was either lying or he’d messed with the coffee.

One sip later, he poured the whole cup down the sink, and began making serious plans to murder Kevin while he slept. The overwhelming taste of salt was almost certainly his fault, as Andrew knew Kevin well enough to know he couldn’t even heat up soup without disaster. Coffee would be too far from his skill level. Silently, he reworked his plan to encompass Kevin rather than Nicky, and let his feet take him next door in the hopes of thieving some untainted coffee before anyone woke up. 

Neil and Matt’s dorm was open, which Andrew noted with some disapproval. With all the bullshit with the Ravens going on, he’d have felt better if Neil was under double lock and key, but on the plus side: it meant he didn’t have to pick the lock to get some coffee in his system. Andrew didn’t abide by coffee culture, but goddamn if he didn’t relate to not being functional before he drank some. 

He closed the front door behind him with a click, and then froze on the spot, empty coffee cup hanging limply from his fingers.

“Oh, Andrew.” Neil said, contorted in some strange shape by the thin light of the early morning sun. “Did you just break in?”

“No I fucking did not.” Andrew snapped immediately, still frozen in place as he mapped the lean twist of Neil’s body, striped in gold from the sun shining through the blinds. He swallowed, entirely new and drug-cloud-free emotions rising in him. “You left your door unlocked.” Neil shot him a look like he didn’t quite believe him, and uncurled himself from the arched position Andrew had found him in. He was wearing grey sweatpants and an overlarge Nike sweater that looked soft to touch, bobbled and old. Andrew surprised himself by the visceral urge to _touch_. He shook it away. “I came to appropriate coffee, but I guess it won’t be a victimless crime now.” He bared his teeth, and Neil just shot him a disinterested look.

“You’re welcome to brew some if it’ll mean I can finish my morning yoga.” Neil shot back, and okay, _that’s_ what he was doing.

“What, you’re all into that zen, mindfulness bullshit now?” Andrew asked, taking a decisive step away from the door and the flash of Neil’s bare stomach as he twisted a certain way. “Don’t tell me you finally started listening to Betsy.”

“It’s good for your joints.” Neil’s voice carried through to the kitchenette, and Andrew pulled a face as he poured himself a cup of coffee.

“What d’you need that for?” He asked, and lingered by the sink for a second with his mug before realising he couldn’t just _hide_ in here. He was Andrew Minyard, for fucks sake. Neil doing yoga wasn’t enough to keep him from going where he liked, no matter how his ass looked in those grey sweats.

“Flexibility.” Neil called, and Andrew reasoned with himself that perhaps he could stay here just another a minute for safety. 

“Did Kevin get you into it?” He asked, as he wandered back into the main area and made a beeline straight for the door. His morning was already fucked up enough, he didn’t need to have a whole confrontation of the Neil Issue before 8am. 

“No.” Neil muttered, twisting his body down so his back arched in a way that made Andrew’s spine twinge. “I just wanna get an advantage with Exy that others might not think about.”

Andrew resisted rolling his eyes, and took a sip of coffee instead. Exy. It always came back to it. Even without his meds, his interest in it was nothing more than dull. He thought, maybe, when he was going through those awful, sickly, shuddering withdrawals, he may find a new love for it. But, he’d been the same person he’d always been at the end of it: angry and sharp and disinterested more out of spite than anything else. He gritted his teeth, and took a gulp of coffee that burned on the way down. 

Neil wasn’t speaking to him, too wrapped up in his new, mysterious morning routine. Andrew didn’t really want to go back to his empty dorm, and settled in on the sofa to watch Neil. Or at least, he stared into his mug, at the floor, his hands. He didn’t want to give Neil any idea of his real feelings towards him, because for another person to understand them made them real. He was very content with harbouring them close to his chest, and to look out for him when Neil needed it and even when he didn’t. He watched Neil’s skinny, graceful limbs out of the corner of his eye, and tried to compare the razor sharp feeling in his chest to how he’d felt before. Through the gauze of drugs, he’d felt manic about Neil, elated down in a very deep part of himself. He’d fully expected to lose it when he detoxed, and was knocked back by the intensity of his affection for Neil when he’d seen him the first time, sober.

It had been too much to handle, emotion burning in his chest like holding your hand to an open flame. The closer he got, the hotter he burned, until he felt like he could be reduced to ashes from just the lance of Neil’s cold blue stare.

Now, it felt like a sunburn, throbbing and uncomfortable but definitely there. Manageable, with the right mindset. Andrew had no expectations from Neil, apart from him to be a mouthy little shit who got himself into trouble he didn’t need to be in, but that went without saying. He sipped his coffee as he watched Neil go through his routine, mapped the sinewy spread of his body in the grey morning light as if sight alone was enough for him. He’d long abandoned any ideas of Neil as a silly, drug-induced crush, because if there was one thing about Andrew it was not that he wasn’t self aware. He knew he wanted Neil, he wanted the press of his skinny body against him, the bite of his mouth and the press of his hands. He wanted to get his mouth on him, see who he really was when he was lost in pleasure. Some deep down part of himself wanted more than that, but it was still too early and he was still too under caffeinated to muse on that.

“So you’re gonna beat the Ravens with yoga?” He asked, over the lip of his mug, and Neil drew himself sinuously out of a deep pose to frown at him.

“This, and every other thing.” He said, always spare with his words in a way Andrew appreciated.

“Great.” Andrew said, and took a sip of his coffee. “Can’t wait to see that.”

Neil just rolled his eyes, not looking at Andrew as he settled himself on the floor and crossed his legs. “Shut up,” He muttered, closing his eyes. “I’m meditating.”

Andrew considered carrying on talking, since he didn’t like Neil’s tone, but dismissed it. _He’d_ walked in on Neil’s new morning routine, after all, and Neil had been gracious enough not to tell him to fuck off as soon as he’d gotten his coffee. Andrew staying silent while Neil _meditated_ was payback for that. Besides, it wasn’t often when Andrew got a chance like that to stare at Neil with no chance of disturbance or detection or several pounds worth of body armour in the way. Watching him practise with Kevin was decent, but Andrew thought he preferred Neil a whole lot more like this. Still sleep-mussed and tired, all his walls not quite intact in the thin light of morning, eyes very blue in his pale face. 

Andrew let his gaze skip over Neil’s sharp profile, the arch of his cheekbones and the steady rise and fall of his chest as he breathed slow. His lips were slightly parted, and unbidden, Andrew found himself thinking about what happened between them on the roof. It must have been a week ago, maybe more, but Andrew could still feel the touch of Neil’s mouth to his like a phantom, like a burn. He took a drink of coffee to wash it away, gaze skipping to Neil’s bony wrists and square hands, knotted together in his lap. He wanted them on him, and he tore his eyes away before he could torture himself further.

“I can hear you thinking from all the way over here.” Neil murmured, eyes still closed, and Andrew tutted as he leaned forward to set his coffee down on the table. 

“Meditation 101,” He said, slow like Neil was an idiot. “Block out any and all outside influence.”

Neil threw him a dirty look, shoulders rounded as he gave up on his meditation for the way. “You’re a pretty persistent outside influence in my life, unfortunately.” Andrew just shrugged and dug in his pocket for his cigarettes.

“You chose it.” He mumbled around a smoke, and lit it as Neil came to join him on the sofa. He sat down close to Andrew, folded his leg underneath himself so his knee just touched the outside of Andrew’s thigh. Andrew put his lighter away slowly, and didn’t make eye contact. 

“You can’t smoke in here.” Neil said, and when Andrew flicked his gaze up his icy blue eyes were boring into him. Andrew very deliberately leaned forward, and blew smoke into his face. 

Neil, to his credit, didn’t flinch. Just plucked Andrew’s cigarette from his fingers and dropped it in his half-empty mug of coffee. “You’re such an ass.” He murmured, and then leaned in to kiss him. 

Andrew had known he was going to kiss him from the minute he realised Neil was up and awake. They hadn’t been alone together since that afternoon on the roof, and whatever was between them had been building since then. The air felt thick with it, and Andrew surrendered himself to Neil in a way he wouldn’t with anyone else. He let Neil slide a hand into his hair, pull him closer inexorably into the kiss. It coursed through him like his drugs used to, a manic spark in his bloodstream that made the world blur out. Everything always seemed very far away when Neil kissed him, but there was no way in hell Neil would ever know how much he affected him.

He wondered if it was a weakness, the throbbing in his chest when Neil made a soft noise against his lips, or whether it was the same pain as an aching muscle. Maybe whatever was hurt was healing stronger, and it was because of Neil. Andrew clenched his fingers in the front of Neil’s soft grey sweater, pulled him closer to kiss him deeper.

It scared him, to let someone close, and his sober mind rebelled against the idea even harder than his drugged mind. Neil traced his thumb down the line of Andrew’s jaw, incredibly tender, and that was enough for Andrew to push him away with a hand to his sternum. 

“Alright.” He muttered, and almost tripped over the coffee table in his haste to stand. The ruined mug of coffee sloshed warningly, and Neil made a frustrated sound as he stuck a hand out to steady it. “Enough.”

“Of course it is.” Neil snapped, and Andrew spared himself one glance back to see his expression. He looked pissed off in that flat, cold way he had, mouth pressed into a thin line and brows furrowed. The collar of his sweater was tugged to the side, where Andrew had held it. He felt something unnamable wash over him, and schooled his expression. “It’s always only on your terms, I forgot.”

“Yeah,” Andrew said, watching as Neil’s mouth tightened. “It is.”

He left Neil sitting on the couch, rubbing his hand over his mouth as if he could dispel Neil from his mind as easily as he could rid himself of the feel of his lips.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading !!! lemme know what u thought :^)
> 
> for my good friend jo who brought the idea of neil doing yoga into the world


End file.
